


Try To Fight It (but it's too good)

by loochskywalker



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Edging, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Restraints, Size Difference, as in Matt has a fetish for certain noises, auralism, three guesses what they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 06:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loochskywalker/pseuds/loochskywalker
Summary: The first time they did this Brandon asked if he was going to be gagged too and Matt had laughed. If he’s being honest with himself, the noises are 90% of what he gets out of it.





	Try To Fight It (but it's too good)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written hockey fic in forever because of the 20 WIPs for OCs i have in the works. But Brandon Carlo is oddly inspiring and so here you go. Also i just found out that being turned on by noises was an actual fetish and so expect me to write about it a lot now lmao.

Matt has a favorite chair. Really, a favorite chair. It’s pretty innocuous, tucked into a desk in his front room, and most people assume it’s just for show. It has a high back, and it’s made from a soft fabric that doesn’t stick to your skin. But most importantly, it has no armrests. Is it great for when you have work to do? Nope. That just isn’t what Matt used the chair for. It’s also why he doesn’t do this on the road, he doesn’t like working with whatever random chair happens to be in whatever random hotel they stay at. 

Brandon asked if he would, Matt said no. He needed his chair.

Brandon, who’s now tied to that chair, arms behind the back and knees spread open.  _ This _ is why he needs a chair with no armrests . Brandon can pull and tug on the binds without knocking his long arms into anything and Matt can work freely. 

The first time they did this Brandon asked if he was going to be gagged too and Matt had laughed. Not  _ at _ him, it wasn’t a dumb question or anything, it just felt funny to Matt. If only Brandon  _ knew _ . The whole point of it for him was the sounds, the noises Brandon would make. If he’s being honest with himself, the noises are 90% of what he gets out of it himself. 

So no Brandon wasn’t gagged, his arms were just tied loosely behind his back and if he closed his knees he’d get a sharp stinging slap to the inside of his thigh as a reminder. Those were pretty much the only stipulations Matt had.

Oh, and Brandon can cum whenever he wants but Matt isn’t going to stop, not until he’s ready.

That’s not a problem right now though.

“Please,” Matt looks up at Brandon, who has his head thrown back and his eyes barely closed. His lips are parted and Matt can barely tell Brandon spoke at all before he speaks again. “Faster, faster.”

Matt let out a soft laugh and looked back down at his hand. He was just using three fingers, rubbing lightly at the underside of Brandon’s cock right over the sensitive head. He didn’t seem to be in any danger of coming any time soon, but of course that was the entire issue. 

Matt tsked, “shush.”

“Please,” Brandon spoke like he was letting out a breath. It was so fucking quiet, light enough to be carried through the air and down Matt’s spine. He paused his hand movements just to let the shiver pass through him. “Faster, faster, faster,” Brandon was getting more insistent, as if he took Matt’s pause as consideration.

Poor guy.

“Why should I?” Matt muttered, “you sound so good.”

Brandon let out a sigh. Not a groan, not a whimper, a disappointed and helpless sigh. 

Matt licked his lips as he looked back up at Brandon. He was so long and his shoulders were surprisingly broad. In every aspect, Brandon was bigger than him and Matt wasn’t going to lie. It was kind of a trip, to take someone who had a full 8 inches on him and make them beg. But it was Brandon. It wasn’t that much of a feat. Matt could get him to beg without tying him up and taking his clothes off. He was just a good boy like that.

Matt has another rule, no blind folds. This isn’t something he always stuck too because sometimes he doesn’t want to be watched as he works. But if he’s being honest most of that came from shame. He didn’t want the person he was working on to see that he wasn’t focused on his hand on their cocks, but their face, their jaw, their throat. Matt liked working with blindfolds because he felt unseen and unjudged. He doesn’t worry about that with Brandon though, and he likes the way Brandon’s eyes blow out, the betrayed and desperate look he shoots at Matt’s hand every now and then. 

“Please, Please,” Brandon is still repeating himself despite Matt already answering him. So Matt doesn’t answer him again, let’s Brandon beg and talk, on that soft, sweet,  _ desperate _ , whisper. 

_ Then _ he whimpers and Matt is so caught off guard by it he squeezes Brandon’s cock, right on an upstroke and Brandon lets out a strangled gasp. 

“Hey,” Matt admonishes but it’s very likely Brandon has no idea what he’s done wrong, or really even has the brainpower to care. 

Either way, Matt gets back to work, rubbing up and down only an inch on Brandon’s cock. His palm cradling the head and his fingers stroking him slowly, gently. He thinks maybe if he was in Brandon’s spot this would be the worst part, but he’s never been afraid to get a little mean.

Brandon tugs at his binds again resettles himself, holds his breath and freezes. All of his restless movements make Matt grin, knowing he’s doing the right thing. Because if Brandon can’t help himself then Matt is winning. He hunches his shoulders forward as far as he can, tenses the muscles in his stomach whines low. He moves his foot forward as if he wants to move his legs, to close them, but he stops.

“Good boy,” Matt mutters because he remembered and he deserves the praise.

Brandon just takes in a sharp inhale of breath in response. Like he’s in pain, like he has his teeth clenched together. And he probably is, Matt is really good at this.

Maybe he’s been going too slow for longer than he thought though because Brandon hitches his hips up, just a tad and tries to rock into Matt’s hand. It takes Matt almost by surprise but he doesn’t give in, moves his hand with Brandon’s hips before reaching over and pushing at them gently to get him to stop.

“I just want to cum,” Brandon says desperately in that weak, soft voice.

“You’ve made that clear,” Matt mutters focus still mostly on the practiced rhythm of his hand.

“Just, faster,” Brandon’s voice went up an octave as if he was trying to sound sweeter, nicer, like he deserved it.

Matt’s cock twitched and he had to reach down to adjust himself. Later, that was later. 

“No,” was all Matt said when he got back to the task at hand. 

But Brandon either didn’t hear him or had lost all sense of patience by this point because he just starts repeating himself again. Matt shakes his head openly, as if to tease Brandon if he’s even looking Matt’s way. Internally though Matt relishes in the soft pleading. His cock is hardening to an unbearable place fast and this isn’t supposed to be about torturing himself. 

Matt reaches down and presses against himself again and lets out his own long breath. It’s shakier than he’d like but when he looks back up at Brandon, there’s no way he heard anything Matt had been saying or doing. 

At this point, Matt just wants to see how far he can push Brandon, how close he can get him to full-on rioting. He’s never seen the gentle giant lose it before, not completely and the idea of it is a little scary, but Matt can’t help but be curious.

Brandon though must have been holding his breath for a while because all of a sudden his body relaxes as he exhales. His foot kicks out and he pulls harder at the binds around his wrists. 

“Oh my god,” He hisses, voice sharp and clear. 

Matt’s eyes stay focused on Brandon’s face, on the way his jaw tenses and relaxes in some rhythm only he can hear. His eyes were still locked on Matt’s hand – well, they are until he lets out a moan and throws his head back. He’s not being quiet and soft anymore, he’s going somewhere fast.

“Holy fuck… fuck.. Fuck you.”

Matt lets out a pleased laugh. Brandon’s never said  _ that _ before. And honestly Matt didn’t think it was possible for anyone to cum from this light, nothing stroke but Brandon looks full-on ready to punch a wall or cum his brains out. Matt’s not sure.

It’s hard but he pulls his hand away and it’s like the strings around Brandon have been cut because he totally sags in the chair. He’s not sure if it’s relief of resignation but Matt will take it. Brandon’s cock is standing straight at attention, red and wet from lube. If this was about anything else Matt would want to lean down and kiss it. Just because he liked the way it looked, just because he wanted to feel it move against his lips. 

The relief for Brandon is temporary, Matt knows. That incessant, not enough stroke was gone but pretty soon Brandon was going to feel the throb in his cock a lot worse. He’s going to be begging to get Matt’s hand back on him. Anything,  _ anything _ . 

Matt doesn’t let it get that far and when he reaches back, he changes up his tactic. He uses the palm of his hand to cup the head of Brandon’s cock, rotating his wrist so that the pressure and the stimulation is centered right on that most sensitive spot. 

He doesn’t react right away, stays still in his binds, body still sagged in relief. Matt knows better than to buy it though because Brandon stopped breathing again, chest tight and biceps tensed. 

Matt speeds up his motion, tightens his grip and ruthlessly rubs his slicked up palm right over that spot he knows  _ burns _ . And Brandon finally lets out a noise. A moan, a real, loud, deep moan that comes from the center of his chest. Matt bites his lips, feels his own hips twitch and refuses to stop his hand.

Brandon let’s out a few more soft hitches of breath before his voice comes back, clearer and serious, “I’m close, I’m too close.”

Matt pulls his hand back again and looks up at Brandon’s face. His head is thrown back again like he’s relieved like he’s able to relax now but when he looks back down at his cock, it’s throbbing threateningly. A few more seconds and Brandon definitely would have been done for.

He always likes the warning, appreciates it. So Matt leans forward, grabbing the top of the chair for support as he drops a soft kiss onto Brandon’s cheekbone . Brandon’s eyes open and he looks over at Matt, unfocused but there. So Matt just smiles at him and sits back down.

When he put his hand back Matt knew that this was going to be their song and dance. A back and forth of Matt touching him until it was too much, until Brandon said he was close. A stop and start of his practiced hand that many might find annoying but Matt fucking  _ loved _ . Of all the noises Brandon made, the serious, “I’m close,” was one of his favorites. He could listen to it all fucking day.

So Matt gets to work, he fists Brandon’s cock expertly and starts to jerk him off on a steady and not at all too slow motion. His grip is tight, and there’s enough lube to keep him going for pretty much as long as he wants. There’s no way Brandon’s going to be begging for faster here, not with what Matt’s planning.

Again he stays mostly still, as if nothing’s really happening to him, as if he can pretend Matt isn’t playing him expertly. It doesn’t last long, maybe not even a minute before Brandon’s repeating himself like a skipping record. 

“Coming, coming.”

Matt pulls his hand back and Brandon moves his legs restlessly, sitting up straight in his chair and letting out a desperate whine. Matt smirks at him and waits a beat or two more before reaching down to pull him off again.

It’s even less time before Brandon’s shaking his head, “Close,” he muttered, “close, Matt, I’m close.”

Matt pulls his hand back again and wants to kiss Brandon again for remembering who he’s with. He doesn’t though. He gives Brandon more time on this one to calm down. As hot as it is, he’d also like a bit longer with Brandon in his grip. It may not be what he’s here for but it is nice.

Eventually, Matt deems it clear and starts to jerk Brandon off again, full long strokes in his sturdy fist. The way he’d touch himself, the way he will be touching himself later. 

When Brandon says it this time Matt full-on rolls his eyes. He doesn’t buy Brandon’s “close, fuck, I’m close,” for a minute. He had plenty of time to recover and it has not been enough time to get him back to that place. So Matt doesn’t stop and Brandon lets out a desperate, pleading sound that is cut up in his chest by his hitching breaths.

Poor guy, really he’s just being bullied at this point.

Matt tsks again.

His fist doesn’t stop moving and he relishes in the feeling of holding Brandon in his hand like that, of feeling how intensely turned on he is. It’s a few more beats before Brandon speaks again.

“Matt, Please, Matt, I’m going to cum.”

He believes Brandon this time, pulling his hand back and watching as Brandon, like before, comes to life like a live wire the moment Matt’s hand is gone. He’s shifting around in the chair and chanting, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” his hips swiveling, his cock throbbing again like it desperately wants to cum like it just might anyway. 

Matt gives him a break that’s a few beats longer than he would have liked again, before reaching forward and starting right back up. The song and dance, like he said, was repetitive but oh so fucking worth it. This was what he was addicted to, this is what he wanted. It felt fucking primal to be here and to get every noise he could from Brandon. Every desperate, tortured, whining noise, it was like a feast for him and he had been starved for decades. 

When Brandon has too much this time Matt pulls his hand back and watches his cock throb again, pulsing on its own. And just… just to be a jerk Matt reaches back over and grabs Brandon while he’s still in the throes of coming down from his pleasure. 

The noise he lets out makes Matt check his face instinctively to make sure he’s not actually crying. Pathetic little sobs and whines. His eyes are shut tight and his mouth is dropped open. It was so unlike the beginning where everything was soft and relaxed. He’s tense now. He’s getting further and further away from Matt.

Perfect.

The next time Brandon says he’s close Matt wonders if he’s just going to cum anyway. He had let Matt stroke him off for a lot longer than Matt had expected, without saying a word or putting up any fight, just sitting there, tense and watching. Guys have done that before, kept their mouth shut and not told Matt they were going to cum. Brandon wasn’t like that though, he was too good. Matt just thinks he was enjoying it too much.

When he pulls his hand away, Brandon lets out a high pitched whine, followed by another one of his pathetic sobs and Matt wants to cover himself in them.

“You’re the worst,” Brandon says on a whimper, “god you’re a sadist.”

“You’re too sweet,” Matt coos back. And just for that, he reaches forward, switching up tactics again. 

He grabs Brandon’s cock with his hand upside down, so his thumb trails along the underside of Brandon’s cock as he moves his hand up. When he reaches the top he rolls his palm over the head and his fist down the other side. He repeats this arch like motion over and over again and Brandon can’t keep himself still.

“Oh, please, Oh god, Oh fuck you,” Brandon mutters as he shifts around in the chair, shoulders arching up, legs trying not to kick out too violently.

It must feel like he’s been able to hold on forever at this point, but Matt checks the clock, it’s only been 15 minutes.

“Poor you,” Matt says when he pulls his hand away, “this is so unfair huh?”

He rests with his elbows on his own knees, hands clasped together loosely as he watches Brandon try to get comfortable again. He’s not going to be able to. He’s way too close. Probably won’t last any longer. Which is fine by Matt, and it’s why he stays and watches Brandon struggle in his seat even though he’s not being touched anymore. He wants to drink it in.

When he starts jerking Brandon off again, it’s brutal, it’s fast, it’s tight and it’s not meant to last. 

Brandon’s cries come out pained now, sharp and rough like he’s lost his voice by now. He’s not still anymore, leaning forward in the chair, arms pulled tight as he lets out a mess of cries and whimpers. It’s getting unbearable now, Matt can tell, but he isnt’ going to stop.

“I’m close, I’m too close, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah you are,” Matt said.

“Oh thank, fuck oh god,” Brandon leans heavily into Matt then, surprising him and messing up his rhythm. But that doesn’t seem to bug Brandon too much because he’s cumming. Matt can feel Brandon’s cock pulse in his hand and bites his own lip knowing how that must feel. The relief that must be pounding through his body.

Matt feels it when Brandon comes down, how his breathing starts to regulate itself for the first time since they started this. Usually he’d hold on, keep going, wait until his whimpers became pained and see if he could cum again but something about the way Brandon is leaning on him makes him stop.

He pulls his hand away and gives Brandon a kiss on the forehead which makes Brandon hum.

“Your turn,” Brandon mutters.

“Okay,” Matt does not need to be convinced. He gently guides Brandon back so he’s sitting in his chair and stands up himself. He pulls his clothes off and straddles Brandon’s lap.

He’s not into edging himself, doesn’t really find anything about jerking himself off sexy in any way not enough to prolong it. But from the beginning Brandon made it clear that if Matt didn’t cum after then it upset him. He liked to please and this was Matt’s way of showing Brandon just how pleased he was. 

He cums fast, he’s been waiting just as long as Brandon has, taking in those noises until they were unbearable. But just as he’s about to cum, fist moving quickly and his own breaths strained, Brandon blows his mind one last time.

“God I want to cum again,” He mutters.

“Wh...what?” Matt asks, he’s not really paying attention if he’s honest.

“In you, I want to cum in you next time.”

Matt chokes and cums along Brandon’s stomach, almost too shocked by what Brandon said to process anything else going on. When he looks up Brandon is giving him a lazy, sly smile.

“What?” Matt repeats, breathless.

“Oh nothing,”

If Matt had any brainpower he’d demand an explanation, but he’s tired and his arm has been overworked. He groans and presses his face into Brandon’s shoulder, he’ll move in a minute.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make me cry with joy ily all. Also i may or may not write a sequel to this.


End file.
